


Lead us not into temptation

by OhAine



Series: Memoirs of a Pathologist [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Because Sweets likes happy endings, Clothing Disparity, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fantasy role play, Grown ups in love doing what grown ups in love do, Happy Ending, Oh God so many..., Oral Sex, PWP, Penetrative Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Priest Sherlock but not really either, School girl Molly, Sherlolly - Freeform, Spanking, Threesome - F/F/M, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhAine/pseuds/OhAine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh Molly, Molly, Molly,” he tutted at her, shaking his head, his voice low and intimate as he slipped his dressing gown from his broad shoulders to reveal his naked body, beginning to dress in the clothes she had set out on their bed; “You always choose a black suit and shirt when I ask you to lay out clothes for me to wear,” she blushed as he whispered, “and I know that you read and re read the story on John’s blog about the case where I disguised myself as a Vicar. You’re such a naughty girl Molly, maybe you should confess your sins to me.”</p><p>A companion piece to 'Let me be your fantasy'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lead us not into temptation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaybeItsJustMyType](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeItsJustMyType/gifts).



> This is a gift for my darling friend MaybeItsJustMyType, 'cause, well, I adore her. She's an amazing beta, a stunning friend and just all 'round special. She's my fic Wifey, even if she does cheat on me with Lil and Streets. I hope you enjoy this K xx
> 
> If you're offended by someone dressing up as a hot priest and making his girlfriend's fantasy come true this may not be the fic for you... Just sayin'...
> 
> Unbeta'd as, well, you know, it's a gift for my beta; so asking her to beta this would be like asking someone over to dinner and then asking them to cook.
> 
> Title taken from 'Temptation' by Heaven 17
> 
> I own nothing but my filthy mind.

* * *

 

 

 

“You’ve got a kink, haven’t you Dr Hooper?” Sherlock said in a low seductive voice. He swept her long brown hair to one side, playfully mouthing soft kiss to her neck as she stood in front of the bedroom mirror smoothing down her figure hugging red cocktail dress. Slipping his arms around her waist, he ran his lips along the shell of her ear.

“Oh God, Sherlock,” she groaned, “stop, please. You know what that does to me-”

“Yes I do,” his hands roamed across her breasts, “why else would I be doing it?”.

“-and we have to be at dinner in less than twenty minutes.”

His kisses trailed down her neck to her shoulder, “Do we really my angel?”

“Jesus, Sherlock,” she melted into him, her body arching under his touch, the rush of blood to her core pulsing in time with the vibrations his voice sent through her, “you know we do.”

“Very well,” softly slipping his hands across her breasts as he backed away, “but you do have a fetish, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Oh Molly, Molly, Molly,” he tutted at her, shaking his head, his voice low and intimate as he slipped his dressing gown from his broad shoulders to reveal his naked body, beginning to dress in the clothes she had set out on their bed; his cock already swelling, half hard against his thigh, “You always choose a black suit and shirt when I ask you to lay out clothes for me to wear,” she blushed as he whispered, “and I know that you read and re read the story on John’s blog about the case where I disguised myself as a Vicar. You’re such a naughty girl Molly, maybe you should confess your sins to me.”

Molly’s blush deepened, as he approached her again to observe her reactions; crimson cheeks were caressed by a long elegant and pale finger,

“So I’m right?” he eyed her lasciviously, unconsciously licking his lips.

“Of course you’re right,” she said almost but not quite defensively, with a shy smile twitching at the corner of her lips, “you’re always right. That’s the problem with being in love with the most observant man in the world.”

“Well then my angel,” he turned her to face him and pulled her flush to his chest as he kissed her deeply, “turn that to your advantage. Tell me what it is you fantasise about, and I may just do it.”

With shaking hands she stroked his chest as she whispered her deepest, darkest secrets to him.

 

*****

 

Her patent Mary Jane’s made a low clicking sound on the tiled floor of the hallway outside of Father Holmes’ office.

Coming to a stop outside, Molly - dressed in knee length white socks, a white cotton shirt, short pleated navy skirt and a matching navy tie with only white cotton panties beneath her clothes - twirled her pig tails around her fingers before knocking on his door. Her pulse quickening in anticipation.

A rich baritone called from inside, “Come in Miss Hooper, I’ve been expecting you.”

When Molly stepped through the door she audibly gasped at the man who sat cross legged in a leather armchair in one corner of the office. Any embarrassment she felt at the game they were playing immediately driven away by deep arousal. Dressed entirely in black, his trousers obscenely tight, with a small square of white clerical collar gracing his long slender throat, Father Holmes gestured to the seat directly opposite him, his eyes danced with mischief, “Take a seat Miss Hooper.”

Molly sat, her skirt riding up revealing soft milky skin, and letting her legs fall open she placed her hands on her knees then slowly slid them along her inner thighs, pushing her skirt even higher; she watched his eyes settle on the patch of white cotton that was revealed between her legs. Cheeks flushed pink, pupils blown black, she bit down on her bottom lip as she blew out a deep breath through her nose, brushing her fingers along the smooth expanse of skin.

With her head bowed she fluttered the lashes of her upturned enormous eyes, “You wanted to see me Father Holmes?”

Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat, “Yes Miss Hooper, Sister Mary tells me you were caught playing kissing games with a boy behind the bike sheds. Is this true?”

“No Father Holmes,” she flashed the most innocent of smiles at him.

“No?” he cocked a questioning eyebrow at her.

“No Father Holmes. It wasn’t kissing, well, not _just_ kissing,” tilting her hips she slipped a finger into her tight underwear, licking her lips “and it wasn’t just boys.”

“ _Oh fuck Molly,_ are you trying to kill me?,” he gasped obscenely low and deep before pulling himself together, “I mean, um, ah, Molly, _ahem_ ,” clearing his throat, he ran one finger between his collar and his throat to ease his breathing, “it is unseemly, not to mention immoral for a young lady to behave in this fashion.” Spots of pink blushes high on his cheek bones spread lower; his elegant throat was becoming flushed as he tried to steady his breath.

“Yes, Father Holmes.”

“So you understand you must confess your sins and be punished?”

Drawing in a shaky little breath and clearly delighted, “Yes, yes I do.”

“Come here then Miss Hooper, kneel,” pointing to the floor between his splayed legs, “on your knees before me, and I’ll hear your confession before deciding on your penance.”

Rising from her seat, Molly walked to him and stood between his parted thighs, her nipples pebbled through the thin, almost transparent cotton of her shirt. Without a bra to support them, her breasts bounced as she dropped to her knees obediently; arousal burning hotly between her thighs.

Laying her head on his lap she rubbed her face against his hardening cock, her breath hot against his fabric covered erection as she said huskily, “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

“Tell me my child,” Sherlock said, breathing heavily as pulled her hair loose from the bands that held it; slipping his hand around to cradle her head against him, her hot mouth sucking his erection through his trousers “ _Ah_ ,” he groaned, throwing his head back, and arching his neck, fighting to regain control of his breathing, “Molly, confess your sins to me.”

Her hands came to rest on his knees and began a slow slide, dangerously good, along his gorgeous, strong, thighs, stopping to rub gentle, teasing, circles when her fingertips brushed against his groin. From under heavy lidded eyes she gazed up at him, lingering on his perfect Cupid’s bow lips, as her large eyes sparkled with lust.

“I have impure thoughts, Father.” Pressing her breasts against his spread thighs, she whispered intimately, “Very impure thoughts.”

“Thoughts about?” his voice shaky, his hands caressing her face and neck.

“Sex,” she said boldly, seductively, “I think about someone touching me, and then I touch myself.”

His breathing quickening, his fingers stilled, “And who is it you think about Miss Hooper?”

“You, Father Holmes,” her hands slowly sliding back along to his knees then falling away, Molly grasped the hem of her short skirt and pushed it up to her waist. Sitting back on her heels to give him a better view, she pressed her hand against her clitoris through her thin cotton panties; a challenge in her glittering eyes, “I think about you.” Working her hand underneath the fabric she parted her folds with inquisitive fingers and groaned as she rubbed circles around the hard pearl she found there. “When I go home at night, I lock my bathroom door and undress, then I lie down naked in a hot bath,” she heard him make a bitten off moan as he said her name, “I let my hands roam over my body and imagine they’re your hands. I imagine you lying on top of me with your cock pressed between my legs, then I push my fingers inside and make myself come while I pretend that you’re fucking me.” Deliberately heaving her breaths to push her breasts against her tight and flimsy shirt she dared a glance at him, satisfied to see hunger and lust evident in his eyes as they lazily drifted between her breasts and where her fingers worked.

With a wanton sigh she stilled her movements and demurely folded her hands on her lap.

Sherlock’s voice rough and filthy, his hand cupping his balls through his trousers while he rubbed his thumb slowly along the length of his shaft, “Tell me what else you wish to confess. Tell me about the games you played.”

“I asked my friend Irene,” his breath hitched and his eyes widened; she continued, her voice throaty and debauched, “to teach me about sex, and she told me to meet her behind the bike sheds after classes had ended,” she gave him a coquettish look from under her long brown lashes, eyes wide and innocent, “but when I went there she was lying on the grass with her boyfriend, William, and they were touching each other. And kissing, like this…”

Rising up on her knees again, she pushed between his thighs and with fingers spread wide she let her hands drift across his chest. One hand coming to rest on his shoulder and the other at his nape, she pulled him down to meet her lips. Soft and yielding, his lips parted and she slipped her tongue into his mouth; coaxing him to caress hers, they tangled together. His hands fell instinctively to her waist then lower to cup her backside, kneading the soft curves underneath her skirt.

“Molly,” he groaned into her mouth heat running through him as he allowed her to pull him under her spell. She smiled against his lips, her eyes dancing with mischief as she pulled away, delighting in the low whimper of protest that escaped him at the loss of contact.

“His hand was under her skirt, between her legs, and I could see his jeans were open and that her hand was on his penis.”

Once again she sat back on her heels to let him see. Pulling the tie from her neck, she began to unbutton her shirt, “When they saw me watching them they pulled apart and Irene told me to lie between them.”

“And then what happened?” he husked, his pupils blown black, his cock harder than it had ever been in his life.

“When I lay down they moved closer to me, pinning me down on either side. Irene said that the first thing that I needed to know about fucking was how to kiss,” locking her eyes with his she slipped one button after another open, so very slowly, revealing her soft pale skin inch by inch, until at last her shirt fell away, exposing her bare breasts as she allowed the fabric to slip from her shoulders and rest at her elbows, “she tilted my head back with her long red fingernail and she pressed her tongue into my mouth.”

“How did it feel?” his demeanour barely containing his want, his need.

“Her lips were very soft, her tongue was gentle. It felt so good that my pussy started to get wet. I couldn’t help myself Father Holmes, I parted my lips to let her go deeper,” Molly said with mock dismay, “it was then that I felt William’s lips on my neck and throat and Irene took her mouth away so that he could have his turn with me. His lips were just as smooth as hers but he was rougher, more insistent,” her voice became low, her breathing harsh, “that’s when they started to touch me. But I wanted more, I wanted to feel what it was like to have someone inside me.”

Sherlock, his face and throat flushed pink, patted his lap and whispered hoarsely, “Come here, Molly.”

Obediently, Molly stood and freed her arms from her shirt and let it fall to the floor. Straddling his lap and facing him, he pulled her down for a soft kiss, his eyes looked at her with adoration, _‘I love you'_ he mouthed to her soundlessly and then graced her with a beautiful boyish smile. She rested one hand over his heart, and brushed a delinquent curl back from his eyes with the other; _‘I know’_ she beamed at him in return.

The strong hands that rested on her hips pulled her closer before gliding upward over her ribs to cup her breasts, his thumbs lightly teasing her nipples, “Was it like this Molly? Did they touch you like this?” he whispered into her skin, placing loving kisses on her collarbone before resting his head against her shoulder.

“Yes,” she sighed, “Yes. I could feel William’s hand pull my shirt loose from the waistband of my skirt and then he put his hand on my stomach and he said _‘Can I touch your tits?’_

 _“Christ,”_ coarse words from such an angelic creature driving him crazy, “Did you let him?”

Grinding down against his hard cock, “Yes, I told him yes,” they groaned loudly in unison at the pressure against their aching bodies, “so he pulled my shirt up and started to pinch and twist my nipple while he kissed me. It was rough and dirty, and it felt incredible. I couldn’t be sure at first what was happening because I was so turned on that every part of me felt amazing, but then I realised Irene was sucking and licking my other nipple. Oh, Father Holmes,” she moaned as she ground down on him again, her wet panties dampening his trousers, “I wanted to come so badly, that it was a relief when Irene ran her hand up my thigh and pulled my knickers down, pressing her fingers inside me. I wanted them to fuck me so that I could think about you while they were inside me-”

Unable to control himself any longer he pulled her into a scorching kiss, one hand on her hip and one on the small of her back he writhed against her desperately, he canted his pelvis toward her growling, “And then what?”

“And then,” she huffed breathlessly, “and then… Sister Mary caught us.”

 _“What!?”_ Sherlock exclaimed, “You can’t be serious Molly,” he gestured to his bulging erection, “you can’t stop there!”

“But I have to Father Holmes,” she smiled coyly, “because now it’s time for my penance.”

“Your pen- _Oh!_ Oh,” his voice dropping an octave, “Your penance, _Yes!”_

Her bare breasts brushed against his clothed chest as she leaned in to kiss his throat, just above his clerical collar, “Yes Father Holmes, I’ve been ever such a bad girl,” low and with intent she murmured against his skin, “so punish me.”

Sherlock panted against her, renewed heat flooding his body, “Remove your clothes Molly, shoes, socks and skirt,” he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “leave the panties.”

Shimmying from his lap, she stood directly in front of him peeling her shoes and knee high socks from her body; turning her back to him, she ran her hands over the globes of her arse searching for the zip that when pulled would allow her skirt to fall to the ground.

“Father Holmes, can you help me?” she asked, her head turned she gazed at him over her shoulder.

Shaky hands reached out to pull the zip slowly down, revealing Molly’s pert backside covered in tight cotton, tugging her skirt it fell to the floor. Smiling she wiggled her bottom and kicked the skirt away.

“Go to my desk Miss Hooper and bend over, face down, hands flat on the surface, arse in the air.”

Excitedly she complied. Draping herself suggestively over the worn wood, she came to rest with her legs slightly parted, her arms stretched out in front of her – palms flat as instructed, her long hair spilling in a silky curtain over her shoulders.

Standing, he adjusted himself in his trousers, and then approached a prone Molly, his hands skimming across the curve of her hips.

“You’re out of control Miss Hooper, and you need to be taken in hand before your soul is lost forever,” running long fingers under the elastic of her underwear, he hooked them into the seams at her hips and pulled the flimsy cotton down to sit just under the curve of her arse. Firm but gentle hands caressed the perfect milky white flesh that he found there, he allowed his finger tips to slip between her cheeks. Stroking along the length of her cleft, he found her puckered hole and pressed his finger tip against it, Molly gasped and squirmed, turning her head to watch him – spots of colour high on her cheeks; he raised a questioning eyebrow, “innocent in some ways still I see.”

Circling her anus he eased inside her up to the first knuckle. A soft cry escaped her lips at the intrusion, “Is that how you’re going to punish me? Fuck my arse?” she panted excitedly.

“Hmmm… not today,” he withdrew his finger and she slumped breathless against the desk, “today I think you need something a bit more traditional. A good old fashioned spanking is called for,” moving to her side he placed his left hand over the dimpled spot at the base of her back, his right against the round curve of her backside, “Oh, Molly,” he sighed, “you are gorgeous like this, so wanton, so dirty.” His cock twitching at the sight of her bent over the desk, just begging to be fucked.

Moving to stand behind her, he slid his long fingers around the swell of her hips to glide across the gentle curve of her stomach. Then, caressing her side he leaned behind her, pushing his still clothed erection against her arse, “There’s my good girl,” he breathed against her neck as she arched her body to push back against him, his hands moving upward to play with her soft breasts as he mouthed gentle kisses against her shoulder. Letting out a low whine, she wriggled against him.

Molly moaned and let her forehead fall to the desk as he squeezed her breast with one hand while moving the other to kneed her backside; he cupped her bottom before his thumb pushed against her anus once more, teasing and gentle, his body curved around hers. As he kissed his way down her back she felt his lips curve into a smile when she pressed her clitoris against the edge of the desk, desperate for friction, pressure, _anything_ ; a frustrated groan on her lips.

“Stop that Molly, or I'll leave you here to take care of yourself alone instead of letting you come on my cock," Sherlock ordered, as he moved to stand again, she instantly missed the heat of his body, “move your thighs apart, I want to see your sweet little cunt.”

She instantly complied, moaning softly as he slipped his clever finger between her folds, parting her, “So wet already Molly?” he tutted mockingly, “you really are a sinful little girl.”

Suddenly and without warning he brought his palm down against the delicate skin of her backside, the sound of the slap echoing in the room around them. A surprised gasp escaped her lips, and then a moan, “ _Again_ ,” she breathed roughly, illicit pleasure tingling through her body, craving his firm hand on her skin, “ _again_.”

She dared a glance at him over her shoulder; his eyes were on fire as he rubbed his splayed hand across her warm flesh. Making small needy noises, her hips thrusted forward as his hand made contact again, her body arching, seeking contact with the object in front of her.

Sherlock moved to her side and slipped her panties down her legs and off, “Legs spread wider apart,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers sought the small bundle of nerves between her dripping folds, rubbing circles with delicious pressure when he unerringly found it, his other hand fell again, the gentle force of the slap forcing her body against his teasing fingers; his soft pouty lips pressed to her ear, as his hand glided along the fluttering plane of her back moving to grip her hair, tugging with just enough force to make her sigh into his touch, “Do you want to come, Molly?”

“Yes, God yes,” she panted out, her eyes dark and lustful.

Dropping gracefully to his knees behind her, he slid her panties down her legs and touched his plush, soft lips to her exposed cunt. Pushing his tongue into her slick folds, one hand gliding up her leg to instinctively grasp her hip, as with the other he stroked his fingertips along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

"Fuck... Christ... That's it, yes."

Keening, Molly writhed against the desk. The intense sensation of his warm mouth felt delicious as he began to slide his tongue in and out in time with her movements, breaching her over and over, Molly fucking herself on Sherlock’s eager mouth.

His hand drifting around her body, one violin calloused finger began to circle her clitoris; Molly moaned, her back arching her fingers grasping for purchase on the far edge of the desk. With her head thrown back, a thin sheen of sweat covering her body, Molly begged, "Father Holmes, please, I want you inside me, please fuck me." She spread her legs wider still and begged again, "Take me. Please Sherlock, fuck me."

Whimpering as cool air replaced hot lips, she heard her lover stand. For seconds it seemed like he was going to leave her there, splayed naked across the desk; she felt his eyes on her - his favourite part, she knew, the moments before he entered her when he looked at her naked body laid out only for him, desperate, only for him. Unable to see what he was doing behind her, only served to increase her already intense arousal. She took a deep and ragged breath as the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered and a quiet rustle of fabric broke the silence.

Sherlock opened his trousers and the bottom three buttons of his shirt. Pushing his clothing aside, he pulled his hard and excited cock from his trousers, taking himself in hand and stroking himself languidly, he watched Molly turn her head to look at him. The heat in her eyes causing a long, low moan, that resolved itself in her name, to escape him.

His cock, hot and heavy, already leaking as it nudged against her. Slowly, he teased her with it, drawing it along her soaking channel, "Christ Molly, you're so fucking wet, your hot little pussy feels so good."

She groaned in anticipation as he pressed firmly against her, the head of his aching cock now nudging against her clitoris. His free hand skimmed along her back, gently falling between the desk and her body to play with her soft breast; he rolled and pinched one hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, goose bumps breaking out on her skin as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I could keep you here like this forever Molly. You look so beautiful like this, so needy, so desperate for my cock."

Pressing forward, he teased; penetrating her with just the swollen head, her body yielding to him, he watched as she took him into her body, "Is this what you wanted Molly? Is this what you wanted William to do to you?"

"Oh, God," she moaned as she pushed back, impaling herself on his long, thick cock, "yes."

"Then take it, take my cock," his shaft moving inside her slick, silky cunt, bending over her.

"Fuck, yes. Do it. Give it to me," the words little more than a ragged exhale.

He bit her neck and she screamed his name, "Such a filthy, slutty little girl Molly, aren't you?"

"Yes," she moaned, becoming louder and louder, pushing back against him as hard as she could, "for you."

Sherlock thrust deep inside her; she was so tight, each movement brought him closer to the edge. Hard and fast, he pumped relentlessly into her, his hands now on her hips he held her in place, fucking her roughly.

"How does it feel? Tell me." He demanded.

"Good, so fucking good. Your cock is so big." Panting now, "Oh, God Sherlock."

The beauty of the body beneath his stunned him as he watched the play of muscles in her slender back, supplication in every delicate line of her body; he threw his head back with a loud moan that she echoed with her own. It suddenly became too much, his end too near, he needed to see her face, her expression when she came. It had been her fantasy to have him take her like this, he wanted her to see him dressed in black, standing between her legs as he fucked her. He wanted her to look at him, to see what she had the power to do to him.

His grip tightened on her, but his pace slowed, struggling to control himself he pulled himself from her body, "Turn around," his voice breaking roughly with arousal, "on your back."

Complying immediately, his commanding words sending a jolt of excitement through her, Molly pulled herself up on shaky legs; turning she sat on the edge of the desk. Her eyes slowly travelled the length of his body, settling on his exposed cock, as it jutted proudly from his body. Cheeks and throat flushed pink, his dishevelled curls a halo around his head, he looked beautiful to her, a debauched angel.

He reached out to take her face in his hands, kissing her deeply, wanting to devour her but remaining gentle, his tongue caressing hers; Molly groaning against his mouth. His perfect, pouty, lips trailed hot, open mouth kisses across her face and neck as she tilted her head to one side and wrapped her legs around him. With his hands trailing across the fluttering muscles of her back, he gently eased her down, allowing himself the indulgence of kissing her soft breasts. His warm, tender lips against her skin causing a frisson of electricity to course through her veins like cocaine. The touch of Sherlock’s wet mouth sending sparks across her vision as he ravaged her.

Putting her hand on the nape of his neck, her fingers gripping his curls, she guided him to her nipple, Molly husked, "Bite it, I want you to bite it." With his beautiful pale eyes fixed firmly on hers from beneath long dark lashes, he scraped his teeth across her nipple, his eyes fluttering closed when her back arched up to meet his luscious mouth, "Harder," she gasped as he nipped gently with his teeth, "again, harder." Sherlock bit down on her breast as needy sounds spilled uncontrollably from her lips, her legs locking tightly around his hips as he palmed her other breast, cupping, squeezing, until she was a writhing, demanding, gasping mess beneath him. With his hips between her thighs he ground down against her, and suddenly the contact between them too little, not enough, his desperation for her overwhelming his senses.

Her vision whiting out for a moment as he took himself in hand and pushed the blunt head of his cock against her throbbing core, entering her again, splitting her open to take his pleasure from her. The soft fabric of his hand tailored suit brushing against her backside and thighs as she rolled her hips up to meet him.

Her head snapping back, she lay down and stretched her arms out above her head, her body taut as she gripped the far edge of the desk once more. Sherlock's willowy fingers gripped her waist as each urgent thrust sank him deeper and deeper inside her, each obscene groan that passed his perfect lips bringing her closer to climax. Rolling her hips against his, their pace quickening, becoming more urgent; Molly's pelvis tilting, _just so_ , Sherlock finding her sweet spot with every wild snap of his hips. Strong hands held her down as he growled, scandalously low, "So. Fucking. Good." The tendons in his neck standing out in relief, he screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip, trying desperately to stave off the growing need to _just fucking come._

Toes curling and body bowing off the desk Molly came, groaning Sherlock’s name as she fluttered and clenched around him; aftershocks of her orgasm pulsing through her, making her body jerk and twitch. Eyes wide, lips kiss swollen and her cheeks spotted pink, Molly lost in her euphoria was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. What little remained of his restraint was gone. Mindlessly, he bucked against her; his brain coming to a screeching halt as sinfully pleasurable sensations began to build, self-restraint abandoned for the carnal pleasures of the woman beneath him writhing on his hard cock. Heat tingling down his spine, his balls tightening, lost in exquisite bliss he could now allow himself to chase his own completion; the tension in her body too much to bear as it contracted around his cock, milking an endless orgasm from his body just moments after hers, a low sound, deep in his throat as he spilled inside her. His mind wrecked, his body lost in ecstasy.

Crashing his mouth against hers, he kissed her feverishly, sparks still igniting between them despite their bodies completion. Sherlock collapsed on to Molly's ravished body, his breath hot against her lips. His mind buzzing, intoxicated by the scent of their sex in the air, he kissed her mouth, her throat, her face, breathing words of worship against her damp skin.

The staccato beat of her heart under his lips as he bent his head to kiss her breasts again, his hands roaming everywhere, greedily touching her skin. Pulling her wrists together, he pinned them above her head with one strong hand, stroking her body, gently, reverently, with the other

The room dark and silent apart from the sounds of their rough breathing.

Cool air caressed her naked body as Sherlock pulled himself from her to stand, still fully dressed only his softening cock exposed, between her legs. Extending a hand, he pulled her upright then swept her into his arms to carry her to the small couch opposite the desk, her body draped across his lap as he sat down with her still in his loving embrace.

All he desired in that moment was to hold and be held. The entire universe lay in his arms.

A sudden, sharp feeling of an unnameable emotion in his chest; the responsibility, what that meant, came sharply into focus, like the starry sky on a frosty night.

"So," she smiled, her lips on his throat, her body curled against his, " _that_ happened."

They both broke out into fits of laughter, "Yes," he said, his voice still rough and breathy from exertion, "yes it did."

"Thank you," Molly whispered against his neck, exhausted, but pausing to draw a line of tiny fluttering kisses along his jaw and neck, "that was wonderful." Her pretty and delicate bitten lips tingled at the contact.

"It was my pleasure," he purred as he tilted her head back to take her mouth in a sweet and gentle kiss, "quite literally." One loving hand stroked her arm. "Molly," love and adoration made his voice soft, his features warm, "I want to give you everything."

Looking at him earnestly, "You already have, my darling," nuzzling against him again, a thought occurred to her, "Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" The vibration of his voice thrummed against her skin.

"Where are we? Is this an actual priest's sacristy?"

"Yes," he hummed, "Father Thomas Lennon, 42, habitually masturbates before service, has a dating profile on one of those websites for married men who want to cheat on their wives. Nasty little man."

"We could have been caught Sherlock," she swatted his shoulder, "come on, we'd better go before we're found out."

Wriggling from his arms, he pulled her back against his chest, "No, we won't get caught. Lestrade will have him in custody for at least another," humming, he looked at his watch, "hmm, three hours."

Eyeing him suspiciously, "What did you do Sherlock?"

"I may have told Gavin that Father Tom has been stealing from the collection plate."

"God, he does sound nasty. Sleazy websites, stealing-"

"-He hasn't actually stolen anything-"

"-Oh Sherlock!"

"-but it'll take Gary hours yet to figure that out."

She lay back into her lovers arms, dipping her head, so that he wouldn't see the smile playing about her lips. That had been funny, and quite sweet, well in a Sherlock kind of way. Relaxing in his safe arms, she had almost drifted off to sleep when she felt his voice low in his chest rumble against her.

"Molly, there's something I need to talk to you about," he cleared his throat, his voice a little unsteady, "more precisely, something I need to ask of you, and for no reason I can comprehend it feels quite important that I do it now."

"I appreciate the gesture, you dressing up for me," teasing him, "but I'm warning you, if you want me to wear the deerstalker in bed, the answer's going to be no."

"No," he laughed, "and I've warned you not to believe everything you read in the papers." A contraction of his chest, one deep breath for courage, "I think about you all the time my Angel, I think about..." _Shit_ , he was going to get this all wrong, why the hell hadn’t he asked John for advice. Molly had turned in his arms now, her beautiful face curious and a little concerned. Blowing out a steadying breath he began again.

"I think about our future, and whether you'll want me to be part of yours."

Stroking his cheek with the back of her fingers, her voice compassionate and loving, "Oh, my Darling, of course I do."

"Good," his breathing relaxed, "that's, um, good." Taking her hand he placed it against his pounding heart, "You live here now," his own hand rested between her breasts, "and I wish to live there. Forever."

Tears sprang to her eyes, "That's what I want too."

"You do?" He asked hopefully, eyes large and bright, smiling.

All she could do was nod, her swollen chest refusing to let her breathe.

"Do you know what I thought the first time I kissed you?"

Looking into his eyes, she shook her head.

"I thought the moon and stars were in your eyes, that your breath in my mouth as you kissed me could sustain me for the whole of my life, that eternity existed in the softness of your lips against mine. That I would only be whole if I could give my heart away to you. It doesn't matter how you answer, not really, because I love you and I always will."

"Sherlock," she breathed.

"Marry me?"

Dark brown eyes stared joyously into his, "You're serious, aren't you?"

Bracing himself, "More serious than I've ever been about anything in my entire life."

Molly's breath hitched, she loved him so much, Eager lips covered his in a passionate kiss, "Yes," she whispered against his lips, “yes."

He hadn't needed to hear her words, even in the darkening room he could see how happy she was, her love for him made her eyes shine.

"I don't want to wait Molly, we've wasted enough time."

"Me either."

"Good. Now?"

"Sherlock!"

"Why not? We're in a church?"

"Oh, I dunno," eyebrows raised, "reading of the banns, marriage licence..."

"One of those _law_ things?"

"Uh, yeah!?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," a smile genuine and bright with love on his lips, "Mycroft took care of that ages ago."

"What!"

"When mother gave me Grandmère's ring to give to you."

"When was that!?"

"Right after she met you for the first time, the day John and Mary became engaged," confusion and disbelief on her face as he caressed her gently, "Molly, don't you see my love, this was always meant to be."

Kissing her fiancé once more, Molly found she couldn't argue with his reasoning.


End file.
